


Ain't It Just Like the Night

by imsorryjesus



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Erwin Smith, M/M, Stress Relief, it is the best erwin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 19:00:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4533537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imsorryjesus/pseuds/imsorryjesus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike helps Erwin relax after his first mission as a squad leader.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ain't It Just Like the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Sennfan on tumblr made [this](http://sennfan.tumblr.com/post/122930741120/bottom-erwin-week-day-5-first-time-previous) and it haunts me every day

It's been two days since his first expedition as a squad leader. Erwin's still not sleeping; the few hours he can get always end in him snapping awake out of a nightmare, covered in sweat. The shaking stopped after a couple of hours back, at least. The Commander hasn't given him any new orders, which must be obvious to the others. He would feel humiliated if he had any energy for it. As it is, the same five words have been parading around his head since it happened, sucking the life out of him. _I nearly got them killed._  
  
Mike comes up on the second night. Erwin doesn't want to let him in, but he does when he asks on the other side of the door. He must look rough, because the other squad leader's face crinkles into a frown. He doesn't say anything at first, though. Instead he slips inside and drops his jacket on the floor. Erwin locks the door again and turns to see him watching patiently. "It went fine," he says, voice calm.  
  
_I nearly got them killed._  "By what criteria?", he retorts. "We barely got back with our skins."  
  
"But you got back." He shrugs, eyes contemplative. "Every expedition is a close one. That's how this works, no matter how air-tight your plans are. You need to stop blaming yourself right now, before you set foot out there again. If you start to doubt yourself in the field, everyone will die next time."  
  
The only emotion in his voice is certainty. Erwin wants so badly to fight him. It almost hurts to know he's right. He looks away and says, "I don't think I can do this."  
  
Mike closes the gap between them, rests a big hand on his shoulder. "You're the best of any of us for the job," he promises. "That's a fact." Erwin squints up at him, catching his eyes. He still feels translucent and sketchy, but Mike's grip injects a little warmth into him, and his expression is as honest as ever. "Why?", Erwin says, biting his lip.  
  
"Because. I get caught up in myself. Hange will do just about anything for the sake of the truth. You - you'll never stop putting the good of your people first. The good of the whole city, even. I have no doubt about that."  
  
_I nearly got them killed._  Erwin feels the tremor start again in his hands. He forgets about it when Mike kisses him. His beard scratches his mouth, and it's so unexpectedly un-Mike that his eyes are wide as plates when the taller man pulls away. He doesn't look the least bit different, though - barely even raises an eyebrow to make his face readable. "You need to relax," he says softly. "Get some of the weight off your shoulders."  
  
"I - uh," Erwin stutters. "I didn't know you were..." The big man does smile a tiny bit at that, and shrugs easily. "I'm not picky. Sex is sex, love is love. If you don't want to, you don't have to."  
  
Erwin shakes his head, eyes still wide. Oh, god, he _does_  want to. "No, it's fine. I just...I didn't expect..." Whatever he was thinking a minute ago, his rational mind is quickly fogging over, and all he can manage before leaning forward again is a wobbly "please".  
  
He feels desperate, almost hysterical, but Mike is as deliberate in this as he is in everything else. He kisses back with both hands curled around Erwin's jaw, thumbs pressing into his cheeks. His unhurried persistence is grounding; the smell of blood and fear starts to fade. Erwin tugs at his shirt, trying to get at the skin underneath, but Mike backs away with a smile. He makes him sit first and undress while he does the same, tossing his clothes with his jacket across the room. It's hard to concentrate once he gets his shirt off. Erwin fumbles with his harness straps, watching the planes of Mike's chest shift under the dim light, and finally feels his heart start to get back in step.  
  
They've been naked around each other a hundred times before, but this is different. Erwin starts curling in on himself unconsciously, hesitating at his shorts, but Mike tosses his aside just then and he's so goddamn _gorgeous_  that the younger man completely forgets what he was doing. He doesn't process that Mike's moving, either, until he's in his face and pushing him gently onto his back. Mike sits up on his knees and runs his eyes down Erwin's body for a long moment. It's too much, being catalogued by those eyes. The first touch at his hips makes him inhale sharply, and Mike chuckles as he slides the last bit of clothing down his legs. "Been a while?", he teases. Erwin blushes, but before he can answer, the big man murmurs "You really are beautiful."  
  
This cannot be Mike. Mike is unflappable and neutral about everything and there is no way this is him, kissing people and making words sound like honey. Erwin is pretty sure everything down to his chest must be bright red. "Do you have to talk like that?", he mutters, unable to help tightening his thighs. He wants to beg Mike to hurry _up_ , dignity be damned, but he's easing forward now, dragging his mouth down Erwin's chest, and it's very difficult to breathe. "No," he answers, catching a nipple between his fingers. The sound he gets in response makes him grin."But it makes me feel good." He curves down to curl his tongue around the other, running his free hand down Erwin's ribs when he arches off the bed. "Shhh. Relax."  
  
His spine creaks when he eventually moves again, hanging his legs off the bed to settle on his stomach. Erwin's so turned on he's dizzy. It doesn't make any sense, but it /is/ helping, in a way - the flex and release of his muscles is drawing the stiffness out, little by little. Mike curls an arm around Erwin's leg and nuzzles the juncture of his thigh and groin, breathing him in. The younger man can't help moaning then, shivering with need. His cock is burning and heavy against his abdomen. "Mike," he breathes, "ah, _Mike_ -"  
  
Whatever he says after that is probably nonsense; Mike pulls him into his mouth and his brain refuses to focus on anything else for a while. He's gentle, but he clearly knows what he's doing, pulling his foreskin down with three fingers and swiping the flat of his tongue up the underside. The rub of his beard is unusual, but nice, in a strange way. Erwin wants so badly to look at him, but he doesn't think he can keep his hips still if he does, so he tips his head back instead. The ceiling is nowhere near as interesting, but it'll keep him from losing it way too soon. Probably.  
  
In what feels like no time at all, a hand suddenly massaging his balls tests that theory. He chokes on a curse and writhes; Mike pulls off with a _pop_  and laughs into his thigh. "Sorry. Couldn't resist." Erwin looks down in an attempt to glare, but the big man's cheeks are flushed and his lips are swollen, and he looks _wonderful_. He catches Erwin's eye and stares, breathing, "Oh, _look_  at you." The awe in his voice makes Erwin's head spin. He reaches out without really thinking, fumbles to get the nightstand drawer open; when Mike sees what he's going for he disentangles himself and crawls up to get it. His cock brushes Erwin's navel, thick and flushed with blood, and he realizes with some surprise that Mike is barely holding it together himself. Of course he can't resist giving him a quick pull. The sound Mike makes rumbles in his chest, and he grinds forward hard against Erwin's stomach before he collects himself. "Cheeky," he growls, but grins at Erwin's smug expression. "I told you, this isn't for me."  
  
It would be out of place to say _thank you_. Erwin catches him in a kiss on his way back down, sucking on his tongue in favor of speaking. He's a bit apprehensive, of course - he hasn't done this to himself in a few months, and not with anyone else since training - but there has never been anyone who exuded more reassurance than this man right now. He rests a foot on his broad shoulder. Without missing a beat, Mike lifts his ankle and sucks hard on each of his toes.  
  
_I'm going to die here_ , he thinks as he melts. _I'm absolutely going to die, and he'll have nobody to blame but himself._  Of course, there are much worse ways to go.  
  
The oil catches the light and shines on his fingers, but Erwin doesn't really process what it is until Mike traces gently around his rim. The sensation makes his whole body twitch. "I'll stay slow," the older man promises. Erwin nods dimly, not concerned in the least. Mike handles him like a jeweler would a broken necklace. He has a musician's hands, with long, slender fingers. One pets his thigh, holding it wide; the other slips one finger in one knuckle at a time. It does feel a bit strange after so much time, and Erwin's head starts to clear up as the moments pass. He watches the focus on Mike's face as he adds his middle finger as well. He's biting his lip, totally absorbed in being careful. _Who else has he practiced this on?_ , Erwin thinks dimly. It's hard to imagine there being enough time in their schedule to fool around on a regular basis. On the other hand, _nobody_  is this seductive on instinct. He hisses when Mike scissors his fingers, feeling both the pressure and the burn ripple through him. The big man stops and reaches up to run his palm down his chest. "Sorry. Too much?"  
  
"No," he hurries to say, then sheepishly corrects himself. "A little slower." He tips his head back again and tries to focus on relaxing, but he can't help himself. "I hope you don't do this with every squad leader that comes through here." Mike pauses, but when he answers Erwin can hear him smiling. "I don't. Usually I just indulge them in a fist fight. Whatever helps people clear their heads. And this is definitely against the rules." He pulls his hand back, and Erwin rolls his hips to follow the motion. "But you're not the kind of person who spars to blow off steam. Doesn't make you smarter or weaker, just makes you yourself. And you are my friend."  
  
"I think this goes a couple of steps beyond friendship, Mike-"  
  
The tall man curls his fingers then, and Erwin nearly bites his tongue off. His spine bows violently and his fingers spasm at his sides; he barely hears Mike's smug "Found it".  
  
He works Erwin open quicker after that. Three fingers have him pushing back into Mike's hand and digging his own fingers into his shoulder, searching for some way to ground himself. He reaches down to trace Mike's knuckles; at that, the big man's rhythm stutters. He curses quietly, then the stretch vanishes, and Erwin all but whines. "Hang on," he hears him say. The mattress creaks, and suddenly his legs are lifted, hooked over Mike's forearms. He blinks up at the man looming over him and says, breathless, "What are you doing?". Mike's hair is draped in front of his face and casts a deep shadow, but his smirk is easy to see. "Better this way. Trust me." Just before he pushes in, Erwin realizes he _does_  trust him, more than anyone. It's a startling flash of clarity.  
  
However, a second later Mike lets his hips drop, and he abruptly stops thinking about anything else. His breath leaves him in a steady press that matches Mike's pace. His back stiffens a little because it burns, yes, but it's also slick and heavy and _god_ -  
  
His teeth break his moan into little pieces and he shivers, willing himself to stay relaxed. Mike straightens out over him, muscles straining where he's supporting his own weight. "Okay?", he grits out. His composure is cracking. Or maybe it's changing shape - he's completely still, hanging on the twitches of Erwin's muscles. The younger man wants to bite his lip and tell him to get on with it, but the calm in the air around them reminds him to know his limits. "Yes," he sighs, but adds, "Slowly". Mike nods and leans forward to steal another kiss.  
  
Erwin expects it to be uncomfortable at first. It is, just a bit - his spine complains about being folded almost double, and the (amazingly) gentle thrusts Mike starts with exacerbate the burn in his ass. He distracts himself by running his hands over Mike's thighs, tracing slick skin and soft hairs. The big man drops his nose to Erwin's temple and breathes him in. He's buried deep, unable to pull out very far from this angle, and when Erwin cranes his neck back for another kiss, he groans into his mouth. "Shit," he huffs against his cheek, "you feel _perfect_." His voice is so sweet that Erwin's embarrassed to look at him; however, his cock brushes over his prostate when he pulls back, and his eyes snap to Mike's automatically as he gasps. Mike breathes a laugh and bumps their foreheads together. "Look pretty good, too."  
  
He's careful, speed only increasing when Erwin stops making little grimaces altogether. The friction stops being uncomfortable blessedly fast. He's covered by Mike completely; the man is massive and warm, and the way he surrounds Erwin makes him feel safe enough to let the last of his control go. Each thrust pushes a gasp or a half-formed plea out of him.  Every so often when Mike rolls his hips, his stomach presses against Erwin's cock, just enough to drive him absolutely mad. His eyes have slipped closed, and he rests his forehead against Erwin's when he can't hold his head up anymore. His groans come out wrapped in deep breaths. They fill up Erwin's ears and catch in his chest, and through the blown-out haze, he dimly realizes he's saying Mike's name like a prayer.  
  
Once the big man quickens his pace, it doesn't take long. Erwin wraps his hands around Mike's wrists, nails digging into the skin. He's shaking, choking out Mike's name in a warning, but the older man takes the cue and snaps his hips hard enough to rattle the headboard. Erwin's orgasm hits him like a punch in the gut. The charge bursts out of his belly and swells straight to his brain, scorching everything in its wake. He throws his neck back and _keens_ , chest heaving, thighs burning as his spine strains against them. Mike pins him fast and mouths his throat, breath coming harsh and hot. He fucks him through his fall until the current has ebbed and he's spent, limp and shivering.  
  
Then he tries to pull out. Erwin can barely feel his toes, and most of his focus has gone to breathing. However, he grabs Mike's wrists before he can move more than an inch. "Where do you think you're going?"  
  
Mike furrows his brow in an expression of joking pity. "I'm reducing the span of time for which you'll be unable to walk."  
  
"I don't think so." He wriggles his calves off Mike's shoulders and curls them around his waist instead. He can't really manage to look challenging, but he tries anyway. "You're not leaving this room until you finish what you started."  
  
Mike hesitates still, but from the look on his face, his dick has clearly already won the debate. All the same, he makes sure to bite back before he picks up again. "Since when are you in charge of me?"


End file.
